I Will Be Rising From The Ground Like A Skyscraper
by WishesintheNightSky
Summary: Go on and try to tear Kurt Hummel down. But he'll just rise from the ground, like a skyscraper. Set in 'Special Education', AU.  Kurt gets a solo at Sectionals!  Minor Blaine/Kurt pre-slash at the end. Sucky summary…


**Title: I Will Be Rising From The Ground, Like A Skyscraper**

**Author: WishesintheNightSky**

**Rating: T, for brief homophobic language, though not in actual dialogue. **

**Summary: Go on and try to tear Kurt Hummel down. But he'll just rise from the ground, like a skyscraper. Set in 'Special Education', AU. Minor Blaine/Kurt pre-slash at the end. Sucky summary...**

**A/N: _Skyscraper _is an amazing song, and I honestly do think that it suits Kurt perfectly. I know that the song wasn't out when 2x09 of Glee aired, which is why I made Kurt write it as an original song. So, in this fic, pretend Kurt never spied on the Warblers, never met Blaine, the Kurtofsky kiss never happened, and Kurt never transferred. I will also be using some sad attempts at humor in this fic, only because all the angst that I write is starting to make me feel more depressed than ever. =/ Bad timing, and probably the wrong fic to put humor in, but that's life for you. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Ryan Murphy, FOX, and et cetera do. I also don't own "Skyscraper" by Demi Lovato. So don't sue me. I'm currently broke.**

**UNBETA-ED. I apologize for the grammar errors. **

* * *

><p><em>THUD. <em>

Kurt bit down hard on his bottom lip to prevent a cry from escaping him. This was the third time he'd gotten shoved into the lockers by Karofsky today, and no one who had witnessed had done a single thing. Just like every other day, they pretended he wasn't there; like he was invisible.

Karofsky grinned mockingly at him, fully aware of the fact that he wouldn't get into any trouble. Coach Sylvester was in the gymnasium, prepping her Cheerios for Nationals, so she wasn't there to intimidate the hulking jock away.

Kurt slid down the lockers (which he could swear had multiple dents from all of the times that he'd been pushed into them), pulling his legs up and hugging his knees together. People walked right past him, making their through the hallways to their next period classes. It was as if he wasn't even there; or like he was a speck of dust that just wasn't able to be seen by the human eye. It was most definitely nothing new, but it still hurt to know that no one cared enough to even help him get back up on his feet, let alone stand up for him.

His dad and Carole, the newlyweds that were now on their honeymoon, had offered to send him to Dalton (where New Direction's competition was) because of their anti-bullying policy (that was apparently enforced, though Kurt didn't believe it at all) with the money they'd saved up for the vacation they were currently on right now, but Kurt had quickly rejected the offer. He wasn't going to run away.

The positive side of everything was that Mr. Schuester had told him that he could get a solo for Sectionals, which Kurt was sure was because he felt guilty about Karofsky and how he wasn't able to do much (or, was just too absorbed in self-preservation to actually try). He didn't question it, though. The chance to sing by himself in a competition had been something he'd been longing for since he'd first joined Glee.

Rachel had been furious when she'd found out that all she'd be singing at Sectionals were harmony lines and background vocals, but Mr. Schue had assured her that she'd sing at Regionals (if they made it), which had only slightly appeased her.

Even sololess (Kurt thought that maybe that word should be in the dictionary, what with how many times Rachel had used it in rehearsals during her fits), the midget diva still put in a few ideas, that Mr. Schuester had taken in suggestion.

Everyone else had waved off her thoughts, but Kurt had actually liked one of them. She'd said that maybe they should consider writing their own songs for competition, instead of covers. He'd talked to Mr. Schue about doing an original song for his solo, and the man had agreed, but Santana was still covering a song for her own solo.

Now it was up to Kurt to write a damn good song, and now he was sure of what exactly to write about.

linebreaklinebreak

_Click. Clack. Click. Clack. _

Those were the sounds of Kurt's black dress shoes pacing on the tiled floor in the hallway of the boy's dressing room. He couldn't remember a time where he had ever felt this nervous before. But every time he remembered that this was going to be his first ever time performing alone in front of a show choir competition, it made the the butterflies in his stomach start fluttering, which was ridiculous, since he'd sang a fourteen-and-a-half effin' Celine Dion medley at the cheerleading Nationals, in FRENCH, while doing a routine worthy of a gymnastics medal, and had WON them 1st PLACE for his efforts.

He supposed that it was because calm, collected, POPULAR, Cheerio!Kurt (he had no clue as to why he'd put exclamation mark between those last two words in his mind) was long gone.

Besides, while New Directions had obviously won against the Hipsters even without going on stage yet (they were, in all honesty, pretty good, but no judge in their right mind would choose a club of elderly people living in retirement homes as the winner. So Kurt hoped that none of the judges were high.), the Warblers had been amazing.

Especially the lead singer, but Kurt immediately shoo'ed that thought away. It was less than desired to gain a crush on their rivals, especially when there was a 99.99999 (with that number repeating itself over and over again) percent chance that that person wouldn't be able to return your affections. Simply put, likely that they didn't play for Kurt's team.

Heading back to the subject, the Warblers had amazing harmonies, AND they were an acapella group as the cherry on top of the freakin' sundae. Kurt had heard other acapella clubs before, but they had nothing on how well the Dalton Academy students' voices blended together.

The other members of New Directions were still confident that they would win hands down, but Kurt wasn't entirely sure. Especially with the song he'd written. Mr. Schuester had said that it was sure to win them first place, and even Rachel had complimented it, but he didn't think it would even come close to being as good as Dalton's performance.

_"And now, for our final performance of the program, from McKinley High, the New Directions!"_

Kurt's head snapped up at the sound of the announcer. Fiddling with the hem of his light maroon button up shirt, he took a deep breath before walking out onto the stage.

The harsh glare of the spotlight made him squint, his hand twitching to cover his eyes, but he restrained himself. No need to look like an amateur, even if he was one.

Stepping up to the microphone, he let his fingertips barely brush the surface of the stand as he looked out into the audience. When Kurt had told his dad about his solo, Burt had promised that he'd be there to watch it._ And he didn't break his promise, _Kurt thought to himself, smiling slightly despite his anxiety. Kurt could just make out the periwinkle baseball cap that the man was wearing, surrounded by a sea of people where he was sitting.

While turning his head to give Brad, their piano man, the signal to start playing, glasz eyes locked onto bright hazel-gold. Kurt paused for a split-second, breath hitching at the orbs that looked like melting amber, before nodding at Brad.

The fast-paced piano instrumental that contrasted perfectly with the slow vocals that Kurt had prepared began as he sang the first verse, voice shaky, but full of emotion.

_"Skies are crying, I am watching, catching teardrops in my hands."_

Kurt loved to go outside when it was raining, and lift his head up towards the clouds with his eyes closed. Then no one was able to tell that he was crying under all the raindrops; his tears would always mix with the rain, to the point where Kurt himself questioned whether or not he was ever actually crying in the first place.

_"Only silence, as its ending, like we never had a chance. Do you have to make me feel like there's nothing left of me?"_

Nowadays, when Karofsky bullied him, the jock would never speak even one word. But his eyes said everything they needed to. _Fag. Fairy. Weak. Freak. **No one cares here about you, and no one ever will. **_

_"You can take everything I have, you can break everything I am, like I'm made of glass…like I'm made of paper."_

As Kurt's voice grew stronger; more powerful with every lyrics that came out of his mouth, he thought back to the days when bullies acted like he was so easy to break, tossing him into dumpsters every day of the school week, making him a direct target in P.E. during any game that involved a ball, pushing him every time they saw him, acting as if all of it would make him shatter.

_"Go on and try to tear me down, I will be rising from the ground, like a skyscraper…like a skyscraper."_

No matter how many times Kurt was knocked down, he would only get back up once more. One day, the people who never acknowledged him, or just taunted him all his life, they would be the ones begging to know him, the ones that would take one look at him and the success he'd have, and wish that they were him. And they would regret not ever taking a second glance at him.

_"As the smoke clears, I awaken, and untangle you from me. Would it make you feel better to watch me while I bleed? _All my windows, still are broken. But I'm standing on my feet._"_

Sometimes, Kurt considered suicide. He had the cuts to prove it, though they were in places that were barely noticeable. Places like his stomach and his thighs. But whenever he came close to killing himself, he told himself that it would get better someday. The shadows that were darkening his right now would leave soon enough, and he would be okay. Even then, Kurt wondered if his ghosts would feel better if he sentenced himself to death.

_"You can take everything I have, you can break everything I am. Like I'm made of glass…like I'm made of paper."_

Kurt's eyes shifted towards his father, watching as the man's expression looked pained, proud, and sorrowful all at once. Burt hadn't heard him sing since his angry rendition of Rose's Turn, and Kurt wanted to let him know that he was okay. He hoped that the song reflected that.

_"Go on and try to tear me down, I will be rising from the ground. Like a skyscraper…like a skyscraper!"_

Kurt took the microphone from its stand, gripping it tightly as he walked forward, closer to the edge of the stage, staring at his feet during the bridge.

_"Go run, run, run, I'm gonna stay right here. Watch you disappear, yeah oh…go run, run, run, yeah it's a long way down," _the countertenor finally lifted his head, fully aware of the tears starting to fall against his will, singing the last of the bridge softly. _"But I am closer to the clouds up here…"_

_"You can take everything I have, you can break everything I am…like I'm made of glass…like I'm made of paper…oh whoa!" _He started to belt the lyrics out, meaning every word that rolled off of his tongue.

_"Go on and TRY to tear me down!" _Kurt barely registered the sudden standing ovation as he reached the highest note in his register on that line, caught up in the music. The other members of New Directions were filing onto the stage into their positions, vocalizing along to his voice.

_"I will be rising from the ground, like a skyscraper, like a skyscraper! Like a skyscraper…" _Kurt gulped in a large breath of air, before almost whispering the last of the song out. _"Like a skyscraper…"_

Applause burst from the audience, but Kurt felt deaf to all of it. He gave a tiny smile to the people on their feet, before moving back into his place for Santana's solo. It was a much more upbeat tune, basically exact opposites from Kurt's song, making the crowd dance on their feet. The porcelain-skinned boy just went through the motions, though, barely paying any attention despite his body keeping up with the others.

The next thing he knew, New Directions was being awarded the first place trophy, the announcer declaring that they were the ones moving onto Regionals. Cheers of delight and loud clapping sounds rang out, but Kurt felt numb to it all, for some reason that he wasn't able to figure out.

Now he was leaning against the wall in the hall of the boy's dressing rooms once more, listening to the guys celebrate their victory as they waited for the bus. Kurt ran a hand through his perfectly coifed hair, making the locks stick up slightly in the process, sighing near inaudibly.

Someone cleared their throat from beside him, and Kurt jumped, startled. He hadn't heard any footsteps coming close.

Glancing up, Kurt looked at the new arrival, only to freeze into place. Glasz eyes were locked onto hazel-gold orbs that looked like melting amber yet again.

Kurt's stare lasted for a moment, before wandering all over the boy. Curly hair that had been tamed and gelled down, a crooked smile on lips that managed to look both chapped and soft, a navy blue and bright red blazer with a crest that held the letter 'D' on it in an medieval-styled script…oh crap.

His head snapped up. This was the lead soloist of the Dalton Academy Warblers.

"Uh…hi. I just wanted to say congratulations on getting first place. You guys were fantastic up there."

Kurt swallowed. The boy had the rich voice of a tenor, and he was starting to make Kurt's legs feel like jelly, which was silly, since he didn't even know the guy.

"T-thank you," Kurt cursed himself inwardly for the slight quiver in his voice. The boy either didn't notice it, or chose to ignore it instead, which Kurt felt grateful for.

"That solo you had was beautiful." Kurt felt his cheeks flush at the compliment. "I didn't recognize the song, though…" The hazel-gold looked up (wait, _**up?**_) at Kurt with a puzzled glint, silently questioning.

"Oh, um, I actually wrote it…" Glasz orbs gazed at the floor, feeling bashful all of a sudden. Kurt didn't know why this boy was making him act this way. It seemed like all of his confidence and bitchiness had disappeared from the second he'd first seen him.

"Wow." He sounded awed, which Kurt couldn't understand. The song itself hadn't been that good, in his opinion, even with all the emotion he'd put into it.

"It wasn't that good," Kurt mumbled to himself, fiddling with his fingers. His shoulders slumped, feeling down in the dumps despite their win.

"Are you kidding me? That had to have been the best song that I've ever heard in my entire life," the boy chirped. Kurt swore that his cheeks were going to be permanently red at this rate. He didn't say anything, though.

"You really don't believe me, do you?" the boy murmured, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself than anything. Kurt could feel his stare, a tingle creeping through him, but he didn't dare make eye contact.

A pause.

"Tell you what, how about this? Let me take you out for coffee sometime, and I'll do my best to convince you of how great that song was."

Kurt's neck almost broke from how fast his head went up, gazing with wide eyes at the boy.

"Are…are you asking me out on a date?" he asked hesitantly, sounding incredulous. He couldn't possibly be gay, there was just too small of a chance that there was someone out of the closet, and interested in him.

"Uh…yeah, I guess so," the boy said slowly. "I mean, um, if you're interested? I didn't mean to assume or anything!" He immediately backtracked, wearing a fearful expression.

"No!" At this, the boy's face took on that of a kicked puppy's, and Kurt rushed to explain himself. "No, no, I meant you weren't assuming…I, uh, just kinda scream gay, so it's fine…" he laughed awkwardly, mentally slapping himself. The boy looked relieved, though, so Kurt didn't feel like too much of a loser.

"So…is that a yes, or…?" There was a hopeful sparkle in the hazel-gold, and Kurt contemplated it for a moment. The boy was attractive (understatement of the century), Kurt was single and wistful, and they weren't competitors against each other anymore, so he wasn't just another Jesse St. James...

"Okay." Kurt bit his lip after saying it. The boy seemed shocked at his answer.

"Okay, really?" There was a delighted laugh here, and Kurt melted at the sound. "I honestly thought you would say no…" The hazel-gold eyes were warm as they said this. "Can I have your number? You know, to schedule a time and place…" he trailed off, clearly embarrassed for some reason.

"Oh, uh, sure!" The Warbler gave him a boyish grin that seemed oddly right on the gentle face, as he handed Kurt his phone. The countertenor quickly typed in his phone number, along with his first and last name, before giving it back.

"So, I'll see you around?" the boy asked, a smile playing on the corner of his lips.

"Yes, definitely." Kurt told him, nodding as the boy started walking backwards. With one last toothy grin, the boy turned around, probably heading back to his Dalton friends.

Later, when Kurt sat near the front of the yellow bus, staring out the window, he realized that he had never actually gotten the boy's name. Groaning, he slapped his forehead at his own stupidity. Mercedes glanced worriedly at him, but Kurt only shook his head at her. She got the message, and shifted back to chatting with Tina.

The bus engine revved, and as they made it out of the parking lot, Kurt's phone beeped, the sign of a new text message. Kurt took it out, reading the notification as it flashed across the screen.

_Unknown_

He pressed the 'Open' button regardless, and his eyes scanned through the text, a smile spreading across his face as he did so.

_uh, hi. i hope that this is really your number and name and not just some random one. but can we maybe do that coffee saturday at 3? and i forgot to tell you my name (creepy, lol), but i'm blaine. blaine anderson. it was nice to meet you, kurt hummel. :)_

He hit 'reply', and his thumbs zoomed across the keyboard.

_don't worry, i really am kurt hummel, and this is my number. ;) and sure, that would be great! it was nice to meet you too, blaine anderson. _

As he tapped 'send', his eyes flickered to the window, and he could swear that he saw hazel-gold if only for one second.

His phone buzzed again.

_see you soon. :)_

After saving_ Blaine Anderson _into his contact list, he sent back one word.

_definitely. (:_

Pocketing his phone, he leaned his head back against his seat, biting his lip to try and repress the goofy smile on his face.

Maybe things didn't seem all that perfect in his life, but he had a feeling that they were going to get much better soon.

_I will be rising from the ground, like a skyscraper…~_

* * *

><p><strong>Cheesy ending, horrible story (srsly. i don't even know how the random flashbacks betweens the lines of the song ended up there). But that's what I get for posting a story I'd written in the span of an hour, past my bedtime. ;P Naughty me. xD Anyways, R&amp;R please! Means the world to me. <strong>

**P.S. I won't be able to update anything for a little while. Heading to New York by car today, which is about 14 hours from where I am. Dx I should be back in about a week or so. **


End file.
